#people will hate u for your identity no matter what so just do whatever makes you comfortable

[mourningcttlfsh]

maturing is realizing that there will always be someone who is going to hate you for your interests no matter what they are

[roseastralis]

✦ — YOUR BLOODIED BLADE II A TRIP TO MEMORY LANE.

blade x gn!reader

✦ summary ; you were willing to do anything he asked, you were used to it. so when he asked you to meet him in stargazer navalia, you obliged. when you arrived, what awaited you there was not blade, but a group of cloud knights sent to arrest you on a crime you did not at all dare commit—soon realizing that blade pinned his crime on you.

✦ info ; backstory of blade and reader from your bloodied blade part one, gn!reader

✦ warnings ; toxic relationship, sensitive topics, mentions of murder and death

✦ author's note ; part 2!! focusing on the backstory this chap so that u know the history. i'm well aware ren is not blade's real name, it's his chinese name. but let's pretend it is for now... also planning to make part 3 tbh

✦ masterlist | part one | part two

It was a restless night, you could not sleep at all, not after what happened in the Stargazer Navalia earlier. Your injuries caused by Blade took a toll on you, making it difficult for you to lay in any position that you almost considered sleeping while standing instead. The recent events that occurred just a few hours back played throughout your mind constantly—and you were annoyed that all you could think about was Blade. Fatigue hits you soon enough, shutting your eyes instantly as you try to get some rest. 

— ✦

“Meet me in the navalia later.” Blade said nonchalantly, hugging you from behind as you sheath your sword. “The usual spot?” You inquire, smiling as you kiss his chin. “Of course.”

“Don't tell me we're going to spar again. Give it up Rèn, I don't want to hurt you again. Sometimes, I think to myself that you're losing on purpose just so I could personally treat your wounds.” You state, sighing as you fix his messy hair from covering his sight.

“No, it's important.” He grabs your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours, as worry hits your face. “Whatever you say, Rèn. I’ll meet you there.”

— ✦

Strange, it was awfully silent when you arrived. Not a single sound could be heard, aside from the harsh winds of the late night. He told you specifically to meet you here, was he running late? Just then, you heard footsteps approaching. It didn't sound like it was coming from one direction—no. It was from multiple people, and it was only a matter of time when you were surrounded by multiple cloud knights with their spears pointed to you.

“If you do not want to make this difficult for you, then stand down and drop your weapon. You're coming with us.” A cloud knight shouted, raising his spear to point at you.

What? Under arrest? Thoughts clouded your mind and you found yourself being apprehended by one of the cloud knights, and you couldn't do anything about it, nothing. 

— ✦

There you were, sitting across from him—hands chained and head down low. Rèn, whose new identity is now Blade—had the face to visit you in this rotting prison and had the audacity to ask how you were doing. You hated how his eyes showed no emotion, how his face had no remorse. If only you could break free from the chains restraining you, then he would have been dead by now.

“(Name) Just listen to me.” Rèn—no, not Rèn. Blade said, sitting across from you and eyeing your frail figure. “Listen? Oh my dear Blade, the nerve you have to order me to listen to a single word you’re going to let out from that mouth of yours.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised at your sudden attitude. This was going nowhere.

“It’s sweet of you to visit me here in this place that you put me in. I have suffered long enough because of you. It's hard to believe that the man I fell in love with would betray me of all things. Aeons, maybe all of this was fake in the first place.” You spat, rage evident on your face. Thank goodness that both of you were given privacy, and that no one could interrupt you, and no one could hear the venom reeking off your tongue.

“I trusted you, I loved you, and I dedicated my whole life to you—but I never meant it like this. You’re cruel, you’re evil, you’re a monster who only cares about their own gains and won’t hesitate to throw someone into the dust for their own satisfaction.”

“I can help you escape—I’ll do anything (Name). Just tell me what to do and I will do it all for you.” 

“I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity. What’s done is done.” 

“(Name). I’m giving you a chance to be with me again—”

“Be with you? Hah, you’ve lost your mind Blade. Answer me this. Have you ever wondered who took the lives of the Lan family? The family, who was always so kind—so humble. Who, in their final moments, smiled up at the person who just reaped their souls—to take care of themselves? Tell me Blade, because I know that it certainly was not me.”

Blade’s face lit up in horror. “How did you—”

“Tell me, who was it?”

“...(Name), please—”

“Who paid for your sins. Who had to rot in jail, just for you to live free as a bird with no guilt carried on your back? I’ve had enough, Blade. Years and years of endless torture is what I had to endure—and yet you, the person responsible for all of this, had the nerve to pin the Lan family murders on someone else. Not just someone else actually—their own lover, the one who loved him endlessly. Yet you took them for granted, and now you are right here, sitting face to face with the one person you betrayed.”

— ✦

You woke up from your nightmare, beads of sweat covering your entire forehead as you continuously gasped for air. You were horrified—as you did not expect for your memories to come flooding back to you. This was the first time you ever dreamt about the incident, despite it being on your mind everyday. You didn’t think it would have such an impact on you, but after your encounter with Blade—you knew that you wanted to seek him out again.

The night was cold, and you were shivering more than usual until you realized that your window was wide open. You sigh, standing up from your bed. As soon as you close the window, something catches your sight. You slowly open the window again, only to find a bouquet of red spider lilies wrapped with dark blue paper and tied with a red knot.

Of course he did. Flowers, it was always on rare occasions that Blade would hand you a bunch of nicely wrapped flowers—usually consisting of roses or chrysanthemums. But that was long ago, and you did not expect this at all. What weirded you the most though, was the fact that he sent spider lilies. Of all flowers he could choose from, he had to choose the ones that were hardest to find. 

You gulped, face flooded with worry. Not only did he send spider lilies, of all things—you remembered that spider lilies symbolize final goodbyes, or even worse—death. That was what he told you before, once when you asked him if he liked flowers. Examining the bouquet, you saw a small note card shoved deep into the stems of the flowers. Your eyes widened slightly as you read it out loud.

“I will always protect you.”

reblogs are deeply appreciated !!

✦ those who asked for part two / to be tagged for part two :)) @rennieeeees | @jnyuan | @enviouspeanut

[ultimatebottom69]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

I am an advocate to the movement to mind my own business tbh.

Sex is a subject i do not think about in that way cause well i am asexual (frankly you came to the wrong person to talk about attractions) and well. We do know that the fags CAN fuck the Dykes. Cause humans use words very freely and sometimes someone is hot regardless of your preferences.

Sometimes even if the person is super hot well you are not attracted to that and to me that's not sexism or whatever. That's just preferences. Now having preferences do not stop you from being an asshole at all or well make you one.

I met plenty of gay men who were assholes and plenty of lesbians who were assholes too. Your sexuality do not dictate or defend your political/ethnical stance no matter what Twitter says.

And no i do think it's a weird thing about feminity and masculinity. I do not think it's sexist to say that at all Anon since Feminity and Masculinity are extremely subjective traits that we randomly paired to a genitalia.

Like from personal experience. I have a gay friend and a nonbinary one. My gay friend is very feminine. Very elegant and yes as cliche as it sounds he loves Beauty Contest. He loves make up. He is the best dressed person in the room when he wants to. My nonbinary friend has body hair, very masculine and simply paint his nails and wear the coolest pearl beads on their wrist that i ever seen(They use They/his) and like. I like that fucker too.

And me i am like super asexual but i do have a voice that can be described as "French boy who just got newly hired for marketing" i was born a woman contrary to my peers above but when it comes to manly task sometimes they call me for advice at the gym and such.

It's not cultural appropriation or sexism. Humans are different that's normal everyone has their truth.

Like. To me sex is like being in front of a the widest variety of buffet. Since i am also interested in the personality of the subject i look at man, woman AND other identities. I do not really care since to me a good convos is better then most sex you can get out here. So at the buffet i am not hungry at all.

And well lie or truth are just human tbh. One day that could be the truth. The next day it could be a lie. It changes all the time.

What i know is i will always trust the person telling me because putting people in boxes when it comes to sexuality or gender is not proper nor cool. I will make mistakes but i will try to make them less.

Like if you tell me you are bisexual leaning toward men and you identify as a man. Even if someone says "well u r just gay." I will go "Well maybe not. You know even if it's 90% men and 10% women they still going in both directions. Maybe ome day that percentage will change."

I am super chill about that tbh. I will maybe ask questions if you says something like "Bisexual-Lesbian-Faery-TerfBaby-She/her" like i will go "Do you know what Terf means ? Or do you just hate men like some lesbians and decided to fuck up your stats ?"

Humans are weird. We been weird since the birth of our existence and we will be weird even when none of us are here to see it.

Isn't it beautiful ?

[ofmermaidstories]

really appreciate the effort that u put into making reader as gender neutral as you can- and how u don’t add descriptions to how reader looks. i cant tell you how many times i’ve had to stop reading an x reader fic that mentioned reader having blue or green eyes, blonde hair, etc. (or when they describe reader as being paper thin). like yeah some people do have those features but NOT everyone…and the ppl who don’t have green eyes and blonde hair (etc) features wanna be included in x reader fics too u know? anyway. yeah. thanks. <3 love your writing btw!!!! 😅

LOL, hi! i will continue to try my (very human) best with the neutrality. 🌷 it’s the charm of the x Reader niche! neutrality with personal descriptors—because you’re trying to cater for as much of the audience as you can, within whatever role you’re giving the Reader in your fic! whether that’s assigning them as a trope like a Pro Hero, or a Childhood Friend, or giving them a specific background that’s important (and informing) to their identity and thus their experience of the world at large—like a POC, or being plus-sized, or living with a disability. Going through a illness, or a life-changing event—idk, i think these are all types of specificities that add more nuance and fun to a piece without dictating a Reader’s shoe-size.

because!! this is the thing!!! specificities are fun—but they’re fun when they’re insertable. humans are at once emphatic and selfish, LOL; we can imagine losing our entire town in a war, or our mother in a tragic building collapse, or being marginalised in a way that we might not otherwise be—but mention we go through all that and that we have piercing amethyst (non-Quirked) eyes at the same time? eh… LOL.

i consider x Reader fics to be their own genre, with their own genre-rules. second-person pov, scant personal descriptions, etc etc. and because i find it fun, i give myself extra rules (it’s fun to me!!!!! reeee!!!!!!!)—like, for instance, there are certain words i either won’t use to describe our Reader or our Reader’s actions, or will use sparingly, depending on the context: like pretty. giggle. delicate. curvy. jeans!!! (i personally think they can be indicative of a size range, depending on how Reader is wearing them, but maybe that’s me projecting bc i hate jeans and i wish they had never been invented <3) just stuff like that! stuff that makes me pause and go, hmm, okay, what kind of person/image is this suggesting to me? using second-person POV to write in gives you so much like, room to play with, when it comes to describing how someone might view themselves/be viewed by others. especially with a romance, where all we want is to be seen! it’s a great opportunity to be like, okay, maybe i don’t want to be seen for how prettily i can giggle—maybe i want to be seen for how easily i laugh with other people.

however,,,, (and this is a big however) i (me, merms) do think that i (again, me, merms) can say this stuff simply because writing with those aforementioned rules makes writing these x Reader fics in general more fun for me (merms). and it’s fun for me because i’ve had my amethyst-eyed, white-haired character days. when i’m not working on fics, i’m busy chipping away at my original fiction, third person, where we have green-eyed skinny blonds and curvy girls with long wavy dark hair like—any and all need for description i have, i get it out in other ways LOL. which means i can afford to approach x Reader fics as a different type of challenge. i would never begrudge (the often younger) writers who are here because it’s fun, and want to write about a Y/N who has amethyst eyes and white hair. Y/N has always, always been their own character—the specificities we give them (or don’t) has always just been in service of making it easier to project onto them. an adventure is an adventure, and at the end of the day it doesn’t matter the cloak we’re wearing for it—as long as we get to the end of it safely. 🌷💕📖

[mikeyfuckinway]

auuuhhg everyday of my life im like this guy and i are so incompatible. it would never work if we were to date and tbh i do not want to date him traditionally however i am deeply charmed by him and think hes one of the funniest loveliest and most interesting people on this planet earth i WANTED to listen to him talk about the beatles for an hour over lunch and he made me a beatles playlist after i made him a they might be giants playlist and hes so wonderful and i want him to be like. my best friend forever like i want him to be my guy like hes not my bestest estest friend someone else occupies that position and they always will its like that thing where u know someone for so long and your relationship has gone through so many weird phases that nothing is ever going to make you not want to be friends with them anymore like theyre my ultimate person who i will know and love forever. but like i want this other guy to be one of MY guys and. you know what i dont think i have a crush on him anymore. my friends and i were talking about love languages and i am severely physically affectionate and he is a germophobe he has ocd but like thats one of the things i like abt him bc he has things like i do like ticks and habits and we both habitually chew our nails and we are so similar but at the same time we are both so different and hes also really really straight and cis so like i dont think itd ever truly work but anyways we were talking abt love languages and hes like a big quality time guy and im very like i wanna do my things like i love you but if youre doing something im uninterested in i dont want to do it. like i have done things that i wouldnt otherwise do bc he was doing them but like it wasnt a "i dont want to do this" to a "i want to do this bc hes going to be there" it was more of a "im indifferent to this but it sounds fun im just not specifically interested" to a "i specifically would like to do this now bc it sounds fun and also he is going to be there" idk its still a thing where like. im just not a specifically quality time kind of person but since im a physical affection kind of person it can kind of come with it but i dunno oh well oh well. either way i dont think we would fulfill what the other wants out of a relationship idk maybe i would for him mostly but i dont think he would for me. unless our understanding of each other changes dramatically and he spends like a month and a half reading queer theory. then like maybe but still. my biggest problem is i need someone who will understand me and understand why i am the way i am genderwise and the thing is. the people who fully understand the way i am will also probably identify like me bc my identity is a product of my understanding of gender and society and that shit, not the other way around. i identify the way i do mostly bc of how my ideas about that shit have changed and the reading ive done about it. and like also the autism but he kind of has that too like not totally the same but like i said we have like some of the same little things but when it comes to like our ideas of ourselves i think we are very different i also have severely pathologized myself from a young age and also i hated my mom and wanted to kill myself and as far as im aware he was much more well adjusted as a child but i guess i dont really know. hm. but i met his parents when they came for family weekend and also he was like surprised when i said my family doesnt eat dinner together very often so they seem pretty like normal midwest american family and didnt seem like they had many familial issues like my household did which honestly is the least big deal thing to me. like if it was just that id be like whatever that doesnt matter but in addition to all the stuff yknow thats just one more thing that is like very extremely different about us and how we developed as people. like honestly its mostly the queer thing. and the germophobe thing like when we were talking abt it like he did say he would probably be very bad at it in a relationship like i oh wow i hit the character limit

[ezradogteeth]

You seem so unselfconscious and joyful in ur gender experience/expression.. how'd u get there? I feel so self conscious making any sort of gender affirming changes bc I don't want people to see, which seems kinda contradictory bc isn't the point of gender expression that people see it. Idk. How do u manage to be so genuine and know urself so well? Or is that just the side we see here<3

2/2 Also sorry lol I know u get a lot of gender asks prolly but it's cuz ur full hearted gender journey is so aspirational/ inspiring (to me) :,]

i think how i got to where i'm at with my gender joy can be broken down into 4 rough factors:

access to medical transition & choosing to do it

growing older and having been trans for longer

internal changes in my mindset

community and loved ones!

to elaborate, 1. it's so so so difficult to feel pride in your identity if it brings you pain. like i've always felt joy and pride in my queer sexuality because it has brought me the joy of queer love, but for a long long time i just wished i wasnt trans because it had only ever made me miserable. i was a teenager, and public trans visibility was very small compared to today, and no matter what i did i could never pass. the few years (age 16-18) leading up to when i started hrt were especially excruciating. i didn't even consider going on T until i was 18 because i'm nonbinary and hadn't heard about nonbinary people going on T until i saw the artist chella man around then. it was super difficult to decide to go on T because i was so uncertain and afraid of permanently altering my body and i didn't know anyone else on T. i decided i needed to try it and if i regretted it down the line then i'd deal with it then. my relationship to my gender immediately improved, it was so insane i was so stoked to have a gender and be exploring it. i was feeling genuine unfettered euphoria for the first time. i'd had small doses before from wearing a binder and changing my name etc, but it was always overshadowed by my greater discomfort. but now i was like YIPPEEEEE i can be a boy WOOO and then i got top surgery which was the ultimate act of reclamation of the self and the body and brought unimaginable joy because for the first time in my life i felt completely congruent with how i wanted my ideal self to be.

2. honestly it's just like every other aspect of your unique personhood, you get more comfortable with it the longer you live with it. i understand myself better over time, i know what i like and what i want and how to get it, i have more practical autonomy and sense of self. acceptance takes time :-) i had a lot of years of misery and uncertainty before this

3 & 4 are super intertwined - i've accepted the "you can do whatever you want forever" and "transness is sexy and epic" mindsets because i've been lucky enough to be surrounded by beautiful diverse trans and gnc people. being in love with other trans people has been holy and made me feel desirable and celebrated For my transness not in spite of it (thank you trans women), which has been integral to my love of my gender. having space to be myself exactly as i want to be and being surrounded by people who will see me as i want to be seen has been crucial.

honestly at the moment i'm in the best place i've ever been with gender stuff and it's largely because i moved to a place with a lot of trans people and i feel normal and beautiful and strong because i have a place among such a spirited and resilient community where i am valued (thank you trans women). when i was living in italy i was internally confident in myself but externally meek and hated how different i was from literally everyone around me. gave me brain damage.

but there is still an unspeakable isolation i have as a genderfluid person, where even when nothing about me externally has changed, i will be a boy or a girl or etc on a given day, and it is still a process for me to accept that i can simply Be the gender i am at any point, i don't have to justify it to myself or anyone else, i can just know for a fact that i am what i am.

ummm so yeah in conclusion i'm this way because ive been immensely lucky to have the resources to transition and have people around me support and inspire me to do so. it does also take some internal courage, you have to choose self-acceptance and take steps forward even when it's difficult, for example with transition stuff that people will see, i also have felt uncomfortable with the public nature of it, esp when i was first starting hrt, and changing my name, both stuff that took a lot of simmering in discomfort.

overall my advice is to take your time and don't be afraid. build connections with other trans people however you can, read about our history and participate in our present moment.

and as a last note, yes, there is always some disconnect between how i am on here and how i am irl, its unavoidable. im sure i come across as more solid and put together, i am more erratic and messy and uncertain and complicated, but everything i say here is genuine for sure, just cant encapsulate personhood into a blog. its also really hard to question your identity publicly. i always post after im more sure of myself so i can be confident - i wasn't posting my intense back-and-forth about starting T, i was posting about how much i loved being on T after i'd made my choice; i still dont post about my regrets and drawbacks from having top surgery, though i do intend to, its just difficult to be nuanced in this format.

thank you for your message i hope something here has been helpful your words were very very kind and i appreciated them, let me know if you want to know more about anything ive said here since its all pretty surface level !!

[braunbakery]

night shift (1)

☞ eren jaeger x reader [fem bodied] [chapter word count: 1.8k]

☞ modern au, sfw, angst, fluff, multi-chapter

☞ cross-posted on ao3

☞ fic plot: ‘you got a 9 to 5, so i’ll take the night shift.’ you take the night shift to avoid having to work with eren. until summer comes and he starts working nights too.

full synopsis here

[ a/n: this ones for u anon <3 ]

| next >

1. bite your tongue

you try not to fool yourself into thinking that you still know eren.

it’s hard. it’s been almost a year and you’re still attached to how he made you feel like he was showing you parts of himself he could only ever let you know about. you still stare at the back of his head when he walks ahead of you on campus. you still shudder when warmth fills your chest whenever you hear people mention his name. you’re still stuck with this incomplete feeling, this loss of something that was never even really yours.

he was your friend and then he wasn’t, and that’s the only way you want to let yourself think about him.

you don’t want to think about him picking you up, insisting you buy him mcdonald’s, or the lingering stares from across the room when you hang out with his friends. you don’t want to think about how restless you got whenever you had to assure people you were ‘just friends’, that you just ‘get along really well.’

but a part of you hates him.

hates him for just…stopping. like none of it mattered. like you sitting in his car in the dead of the night, staring at each other after you had finally choked out that you liked him, didn’t matter. like him leaning in so close to you, practically breathing into your slightly parted lips and mumbling a distant ‘me too’ didn’t matter. like you just barely brushing your lips against his and listening to both of your laboured breaths hitching didn’t matter. like him smiling at you from the car until you reach your door, both beaming after barely even a kiss, didn’t matter.

like you didn’t matter.

but you most definitely, truly, hate him the most for deciding to apply for a job in the same café you work at just months after he had left you hanging. just weeks after you thought you were making peace with the radio silence on his end.

“who’s this?” you had asked, your eyes zeroing in on eren’s name at the bottom of the rota for the week pinned to the board in the break room. no way. no way, right?

“oh, eren jaeger. applied like a week ago,” your manager said from behind you, completely unaware of the way your heart had started to pound against your sternum.

what the fuck?

it takes one day of standing behind the counter, watching eren walk in donning an identical all black uniform as you, for you to decide that you can’t stand the sight of him. you can’t stand the sight of him, you can’t stand the sight of his hair (grown out now and slightly dishevelled), you can’t stand the sight of him talking to your co-workers (your co-workers, for fucks sake. he knows you work here), you can’t stand the sight of him at the far end of the counter getting taught how to make a cappuccino or macchiato or americano or whatever the fu–

“hey,” he casually calls out, making momentary eye contact as he walks past you on the other side of the counter and disappears into the break room.

that. you can’t stand that. and you can’t stand how much you want him to do it again.

so as soon as your shift ends, you’re off to your manager and asking to take night shifts instead, knowing full well eren won’t be there. and your manager lets you (of course he does, it’s hard enough getting people to want to work the night shift. he’s practically beaming when you ask), and you don’t see eren again.

you don’t see him for the last three months of semester, you even sometimes forget that he works at the same place as you, only reminded by his name on the roster. seeing the back of his head on campus gets easier and watching him slink around with his friends (hair just growing and growing) gets more bearable. until it’s summer and your shitty beach town is flooded with tourists and you’re fine. you’re fine. and the way eren had stopped speaking to you after he had looked at you like you had mattered so much that night is okay.

and you try to convince yourself it’s okay too when you’re in at half five in the evening, apron on, the first week of summer, and for some fucking reason eren is standing in front of you with your manager. like this is perfectly okay for him as well. because it probably is.

he had shown a long time ago that he doesn’t fucking care. so why do you?

“hey, found someone to cover hitch for the time being,” your manager says when you walk up to him and eren. he doesn’t notice the way your jaw is practically clamped shut, or the struggle to pry it back open enough to say something back.

“i said i could handle it alone, though,” you say as politely as possible, trying to ignore how eren’s gaze is fixed on you. even his silence, as innocent as it may be, has you seething. hitch, who used to do night shifts with you, has gone away for the entire summer, so you’re stuck manning the café on your own. or, you should be, but instead you’re sparing glances at eren’s towering figure in front of you trying to wish him into dust.

“no, it’s too much,” your manager says, and he cuts you off immediately when you open your mouth to protest, “listen, maybe before the summer it would’ve been fine, but there’s way too many tourists around the place to think it’ll be calm shifts for you on your own.”

he’s right, you know he is, and you have to stop yourself from fighting back more. a moment of silence passes and your manager exhales when he realises that you’ve surrendered.

“anyway, this is ere-”

“we’ve met,” you blurt out. you don’t even realise you’ve said it until you look up, shocked at the sound of your own voice, and find eren’s eyebrows raised. you want to slap them clean off, “i was still working days when he came.” you add hesitantly. your manager smiles cluelessly.

“oh, really? even better,” the older man exclaims before rubbing his hands together and starting to back away into the break room, “i’ll leave you to it then.”

you and eren are stuck standing opposite each other in the still empty café. he eventually raises a hand up to scratch the back off his neck and you watch him suspiciously.

“hey…partner,” eren says meekly, and that’s enough for you to exhale in response and make your way back around behind the counter, pretending to have found something to busy yourself with. eren follows suit.

and eventually customers come and go and you’re grateful that eren is competent and you really only have to bark coffee orders at him and nod when he asks questions and, if you try hard enough, you don’t even have to look at him. (you’re scared if you start letting yourself you won’t stop. and you’ll still be thinking of him when you’re finally able to go home. since when was his hair long enough to put into a bun? and every time you do spare him a glance between customers, he’s always already looking at you. you wish you could swallow down the feeling it gives you in your chest.)

there’s a lull in customers as the night sets in and for a naïve moment, you let yourself believe that eren will just let the silence between you remain. but, even if he’s grown a little now and looks a little different now, you can tell he still has the capacity to be an idiot. an annoying idiot. and he proves you right, of course.

“hey,” eren calls out to you from his place at the end of the counter, leaning against the cupboards housing extra supplies, “how come you decided to work night shifts?”

you don’t want to answer his questions or get used to how it feels to actually speak to him again, so you just shrug. you can just about make out him watching you warily from the corner of your eye.

“not a party girl?” he teases lightly.

“i don’t know, eren, how come you decided to work night shifts?” you snap slightly, and it only makes the closed mouth smile playing at his lips grow a little wider.

“hey, no need to get defensive,” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to be polite by the way he slightly holds his hand out in front of him. you only realise you’ve fully turned around to face him when you don’t feel your neck straining to look over at him and you immediately curse yourself for it, “didn’t call you a loser or anything.”

“that’s literally not what i was thinking at all,” you say, and eren holds his breath and decides not to say anymore. you want to be grateful for it, but for some reason your chest sinks when you realise he isn’t going to say anything more. and that he isn’t the same eren from months ago who would’ve jumped at the chance to make you even more irritated.

you hear him clutter through something behind you and clench your fists. this is going to be a one time thing. you’re just…gonna say this and be done with it. maybe you’ll quit. maybe you’ll switch to day shifts as obvious as that’ll be to eren. but the words are practically begging to spill out of you.

“eren,” you start, slowly turning around to face him. he leans back up from the cupboards and turns to face you as well, failing to hide the surprise plastered over his face at you deciding to address him first.

“yeah?” he questions. you gulp.

“how come you decided to work here?”

“what?”

“like…” god, why is this so hard to say? and why are you getting nervous? he’s the one that should feel bad around you, “like, you knew i was working here. so why did you decide to as well?”

the way eren stares at you makes you feel like you’re back in his car with him, the tension between you so thick that it feels like it’s going to suffocate you. you catch his lips slightly moving but no sound comes out and the more time passes the harder you swallow nothing but air.

“i…” he starts, putting down whatever he was holding in his hands on the counter. and it feels like he’s stepping closer to you. why is he stepping closer to you? why aren’t you bothered by it? why–

the creaking of the door sounds throughout the café and two customers walk in together. eren looks at the customers and back at you. you furrow your brows at him, waiting for some kind of answer. waiting for him to say something that might make having to stand behind this counter with him for the rest of the summer a little easier at least. eren opens his mouth again.

“i needed some extra cash.”

you suck in a breath, turn back to the till and greet the customers in front of you.

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[kittydripuwu]

Hello, I'm the anon that requested the Dazai being kidnapped scenario and I didn't see it on your pinned post anymore. May I ask what happened to it / if I did anything wrong?

hi sorry omg, i posted it earlier but tumblr was acting up and i had to take it down and forgot to repost it! here u go :>

req - Can I request some angst to fluff where Dazai purposefully puts himself in a dangerous position and everyone thinks that he's dead so a usually stoic reader goes on a rampage in their grief on the organization that supposedly killed him during an agency raid but then finds out that he's alive? And reader hasn't confessed their feelings yet?

never again | dazai x reader

words - 1951

warnings - swearing, angst

genre - angst/fluff?

note - this is so poorly written im sorry my ideas were ALL over the place :’)

the long period of time in which the agency had upheld peace and quiet with all of the known criminal organizations in yokohama, had come to an end. the port mafia and the agency had started to notice odd and quite brutal murders around the city. at first, the agency thought it was the mafia going on a killing rampage, only to notice the method used to assasinate was quite different from the mafia's. whoever it was, they killed brutally, leaving an X cut into their victims throats. they were a bloodthirsty bunch and all they were here for was to kill and take over any other gifted organizations.

the agency had already dealt with a few attacks, but none with other ability users making it easy to fight them. everyone from this unknown organization seemed to dress in all black and wear sunglasses to cover their mysterious identities. when taken hostage, they wouldnt speak, no matter what was done to them, it was an impossible case.

you had been calm throughout everything the agency went through in the last few weeks, knowing that you and your fellow agency members knew how to fight well and deal with these kinds of situations. it was all peaceful and quiet that day when you were sitting in the office doing some work until, the agency building was yet again attacked. an ability user with an inferno ability, able to burn anything down to ash. they did not seem to seek destruction of the city but rather, the people in it. it was a difficult fight but you and your colleauges were able to get through it as always.

after this, the president of the armed detective agency declared it a case to find out more and stop this organization, but urged everyone to do it at a distance.

"whatever you do, do not go near anybody from this unknown group of people. they seem to seek bloodthirst, and will kill everyone in their path" he said during a meeting that occured that same day. you knew this wasn't going to be easy but you were going to try to do as much as you can to help.

it was getting pretty late and you had just finally finished some work, standing up and heading out the door to head home. you walked the streets cautiously, knowing that at this point in time, the city wasn't particularly safe. you ended up getting home with no troubles, and instanly falling asleep after a long and tiring day. meanwhile, there was still one person in the agency who was awake during the long hours of the night, and that was dazai osamu. despite what he was told by the president, he had his own plans for how he was going to find out information. he knew this could easily get him killed and he knew this was dangerous but it was the only way he could think of.

dazai's plan didn't seem all that bad to him, he was simply going to find one of them roaming the streets, disarm them and question them. he was aimlessly roaming the streets at night in search of one of the people dressed in black, with nothing on him but a loaded gun. he didn't really know why he chose such a dangerous plan, he knew there was a high chance that he could be killed but all of that didn't matter to him now. he, who had been concealing his emotions for too long, feeling empty and inhuman on this planet, felt somewhat at peace when coming this close to death. he kept trying to tell himself that if he died helping the agency, helping you, maybe everything would have been worth it after all, maybe the pain and suffering was worth something, maybe it would mean that he was finally a good person.

but no, none of these invasive thoughts were true, for when he ran into one of the unknown men dressed in black, he had broken a promise he made long ago to a dear friend.

he stood above the man who was on the ground now, disarmed. this man was unlike the others, he spoke. maybe it was dazai's forceful interrogation methods, or maybe it was just another man surrendering. he told dazai about the organization's intentions, where their base was and all about their powerful ability users. he told him that the only way to get rid of them, was to kill them all. they were a group of soulless men, wanting nothing more but to kill and take over yokohama.

"kill me" he pleaded after speaking to him about the organization.

"please kill me"

"why do you wish to die?" dazai asked him.

"there is no place for me in this world" he said simply.

this sparked something in dazai, he understood suffering very well and he could tell by this man's voice that he was in pain, and like dazai, he desired nothing more but to get a taste of sweet death.

"i'm sorry oda" he whispered to himself before shooting the man a few times.

after this, he continued to wander the empty streets, realising that the only way to fight them was going against agency rules. but he thought if he was able to do this on his own, maybe he could keep you and everyone at the agency, safe. he managed to reach the base of the place, and seeing no one around to gaurd it, he simply walked in. he managed to sneak through to what looked like a computer room. there were plenty of computers and different kinds of technology, but none of that mattered when he saw a usb on one of the desks in the room. he was quick to slip it into his pocket right before three men appeared in the doorway.

there was something different about these men, they didn't instantly shoot, but rather took him as a hostage. these men spoke aswell, they told him that they wouldn't kill him yet, but rather wanted to find out more about the other organizations in yokohama. they said they had questioned multiple people already, who gave them nothing of use and were brutally murdered. he was handcuffed and left to sit in this room until dawn.

you woke up feeling pretty sore and tired from all the events of the day before. after getting ready, you took your regular route to the agency with caution, ready to attack if need be. when you arrived at the office, you were informed that dazai never came back to the agency dorm that night, and that he had gone missing. normally, everyone including you would treat this as just dazai being dazai, but with the current state of the city, everyone began to panic. there was a meeting to discuss the next plan of action after multiple phone calls to him, resulting in no reply.

"dazai would never do this in such a situation"

"he wouldn't disrespect the presidents order's like this"

"not in a situation like this for sure"

"i agree, he may be reckless but not so much to go this far"

you sat through the meeting, mind filled with worry as you listened to what everyone was saying. you've always gotten along very well with dazai, and always found him to be a very interesting person. you hated to admit it but, you liked him, alot. you were too shy to confess to him for the longest time but you had promised yourself to finally do it after all of this was finally over.

"could he be dead?"

"ranpo help us out here"

"no can do, all i know is that he's most likely at thier base"

after being so caught up in your own thoughts, this managed to snap you back into reality. dazai osamu. dazai osamu was dead? no, you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn't even consider that but the thought kept coming back to haunt you.

"everyone search for him" said the president as he dismissed everyone.

you and your fellow agency memebers spent the day looking for dazai. you looked in all the spots you knew he could be, but he was nowhere to be found, and his phone going straight to voicemail when called.

if he didn't show up the next morning, everyone would presume him as dead. you couldn't sleep that night, your thoughts draining you with worry and sorrow.

the next morning, dazai was still gone. everyone was worried and discussing what to do, when you simply stormed out of the meeting room, running out of the building.

"i'll kill them all i swear i'll kill every last one of them" you muttered to yourself as you ran down the streets, looking out for anyone who was wearing black. your thoughts were now clouded with fear, worry and rage as you desperatley searched the streets for someone to give you information. no one seemed to reveal anything, no one spoke, not a single one of them. you had no choice but to hurt them and even kill a few in order to get something. one of them managed to croak out an adress as you repeatedly kicked them while holding a gun to their head. luckily, you hadn't encountered any ability users, only weak men who were too easy to disarm.

"what did you say?" you asked the man.

"o-our base" he replied, in between coughs.

within a minute, you were out of the alleyway, back on the street and heading to the given address. you swore to yourself that you would make sure anyone who hurt dazai would be dead.

lost in your thoughts, you weren't paying attention to where you were going when you bumped into someone. you looked up, only to see a familiar face.

"y/n?"

you began to cry. dazai was standing right infront of you, looking down at you in confusion.

"what the fuck is wrong with you" you said between sobs, throwing your arms around him.

"what??" he replied, hugging you back.

"everyone thought you were dead" you said as you cried into his shoulder.

"i was only gone for 2 days" he replied, rubbing your back gently to calm you down.

"where the fuck were you?" you asked after a few minutes of silence, pulling out of the hug.

"i got myself caught by the organization to find out information"

"why would you do that"

"because that was the only way" he replied, with no emotion in his voice.

"please don't ever do that to me again" you said as you looked down while you two began to walk back to the agency.

dazai knew how you felt about him, despite the fact that you haven't confessed. he felt the same way but he wasn't going to tell you that, he was going to wait for you to do it.

he stopped in his tracks suddeny and turned you around, pulling you into his arms, and hugging you tightly.

"never again" he said, as you gladly accepted the hug.

he wanted to make sure you knew that he cared about you. he wasn't very expressive of it, but he told himself he would do anything to protect you and the agency, no matter what it took.

you two then returned to the agency, where everyone began to yell at dazai but also praise him for the information he was able to get. they knew exactly how many of them there were, the abilities they had, and how to properly deal with them. thanks to him, the agency was once again able to save the city.

[apherod]

Rubian Soulmate AU

I finally finished writing it ahhhh

I eventually decided that I was going for a sketch-style writing for this. Just short bits and pieces here and there, piecing together some scenes, but not fully fleshed out into a storyline (it coincides with the original story mostly anyway)

So here it is! Enjoy!

This is a Liam and Ruby Soulmate AU requested by an anon (possibly @thedarkestcrew?) ask, in which damage done to one half of the soulmate pair would translate to the other half. 

Word count: 4400

===

Liam

“Where did all these bruises come from?”

I was driving through Highway 95 in Maryland when I noticed the bruises crowning my knuckles. They just…appeared, like petals floating to the surface of water. It is possible that I punched something—or someone—at some point in the last few days, or tripped and fell, and using…my fists to break the fall? But I don’t recall doing any of that.

Then again, my head hadn’t been the most reliable in these past few weeks, either.

They weren’t the first. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with a cut on my upper arm, and the blood drenched half of my sleeve, but the sleeve wasn’t torn or cut, so it couldn’t have been me… Another one came a few days after that, when I was driving, and a sudden searing pain came to my wrist, like I was burnt by a frying pan, but that part of my skin wasn’t even touching anything. The list goes on.

I think I’m going insane.

Some people…some who are lucky enough to find their soulmates, found themselves with identical wounds on them, because when one half of that bond gets hurt, the other one suffers, too. Mom’s bruises never translated onto our birth dad. Maybe that was why he was so okay with hurting her. It wasn’t until she met Harry, did that magic—or curse—work on both of them.

But that’s exactly that—it only happens after you’ve met the person. If I’ve somehow met her, and didn’t know who she was, then I’ve really screwed up. Big time.

It couldn’t have been anyone in Caledonia, otherwise I would’ve known. No one from home, either. There weren’t even that many of us left. Could it be someone from East River? For some reason, I just couldn’t be sure… There’re this weird quality in my memory when I think of East River, glowing tinge surrounding everything, blurring details, and flaring up the edges, making it hard to see for too long.

Also, if I met her in East River, why isn’t she with me?

If she’s really out there, I felt sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her in the past few days. When I narrowly escaped that group of Skip Tracers, my arms were all cut up, real pretty. I can’t imagine the horror she must have felt when her arms just, out of nowhere, started spontaneously bleeding half of her blood out.

I really ought to take better care of myself, even if it’s just for her sake.

When I crossed the state boarder into Pennsylvania, I managed to find an old payphone, and left a voice mail for my brother to let him know where I am, and that I’m coming his way. I didn’t want to—asking for Cole’s help was one of the few things that I genuinely want to avoid—but I’m really desperate.

The truth is, just imagining him gloating about this—about me needing his help—was almost enough to make me turn around. Think about the last time I asked for his help… didn’t work out so well, did it? But whatever Cole has to offer, whatever nightmare I have to live through going back to the League, is better than being hauled back into the camp.

I don’t think they’d actually take me back into a camp, anyway.

When I got passed the wrong Wilmington, I briefly glimpsed the road sign that read US 13, and a voice suddenly rang in my head.

Turn off here. It urged.

The feeling was distinctly different from my reluctance to meet Cole—it was a drive, asking me to go somewhere, rather than run from somewhere.

Whatever it was, I can’t listen, no matter how hard I wanted to, no matter how it warmed my heart just thinking about that impulse, like it would lead me home, even though I had no idea how.

I got into the city of Philadelphia, and found my brother’s apartment soon enough. When I got into his building, a woman threw me a sideway glance that made my hair stood on their ends.

Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me… I muttered in my head while I pressed the buzzer. The door swung opened, and I was snatched inside by a forceful arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Cole snarled before I could even lay eyes on him properly. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

He looked much better than me, that much was clear. Cole never had any wound that wasn’t his own, and from the looks of him, he hadn’t seen much action lately. His hair was clean-cut, brushed neatly away from his face. He was wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans, with metal-frame glasses which were clearly without diopters to finish the look. In this getup, you’d expect him to be a graduate student in U Penn, not a high school dropout.

“I… I didn’t have any money to place a call.” I muttered, feeling my voice getting smaller. Gosh, I hated this. I hated that I felt like a child again. I took off my jacket, and hung it on the peg right next to his. They were two identical black leather jackets, which Mom bought us years ago—she got them a couple of sizes bigger than we were at the time, in anticipation that we would eventually grow into them. Cole did, whereas I felt like I still hadn’t.

Cole let out a long and harsh breath, and gave me a scan head to toe. “You’ve seen better days.” He commented eventually, a subtle amusement in his tone. “Even for you, this is a bit excessive…” He gingerly lifted my right wrist, and got a good look at my forearm, all cut up.

You don’t say. I wanted to retort, but didn’t. “What are you doing in Philly?” I asked as I retracted my hand.

Cole raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

Maybe not. “I’d probably know eventually, wouldn’t I?” I said.

He scratched his chin, frowning. “You know what this means, right? You know where we’re going?”

“Look, if I could just find Mom and Harry…” I began, but he raised his hand and stopped me.

“No,” He snapped, “We don’t have that kind of time. My assignment here is done. I’m being extracted at midnight, which is in less than four hours, and if you think I’d let you out running into the wild and being hauled into a camp again, you’d have another thought coming.”

Choose me. I remembered the subtext of what Cole said that night when he left home, and now it was ringing in a different tone. Now I don’t have a choice.

“All right.” I sighed. “Whatever you say.”

He frowned deeper. But it took him a while to say something. “Look, I know the last time you came with me, it didn’t end so well, but things are turning around.” He said, palms down, pacifying. “I promise, just stick it out a few months.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “I just do. Trust me.” He said, then gave me a tight smile, “Tell you what, I’ll go get us something to eat, and you clearly need a shower.” He took off his glasses, grabbed the keys, then, as if remembered something, added with a grin, “Do not, drown in the bathtub.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.

Before he could open the door, though, I stopped him. “Cole,” I began, but didn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Have we...” I caught myself just for a moment. What am I doing? “...have we ever been to Virginia Beach?”

Because that…memory? was so vivid, that I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, calling me at every moment I so much as allowed my mind to idle for a second. But it also had that bright glare around it, like it didn’t really belong to me, like I was seeing it through a mirror, into a different dimension where we were all happier people.

Cole was there, looking exactly like how he was now, but Claire was also there, and that didn’t make any sense…

“No…?” Cole said, “We lived in Wilmington. We went to Wrightsville, remember?”

Of course I do, but… I shook my head. “It’s just… I kept seeing this…memory, that we were there, and Claire was there, too…”

Cole pressed his lips tight. I know mentioning Claire’s name would probably put him on edge, but it’s not like I have other people to talk about her with anyway. A part of me wanted to be a bit mean about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t have the strength.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, voice rigid. “Just go take your shower. I’ll be back with the food.”

And he left, leaving me alone in his white and bare apartment.

I still couldn’t be sure that it was a good idea coming here. If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t even about my negative view on the League, or what it had turned my brother into, but that…I’m not sure how to be his brother anymore. I’m not even sure that he needs a brother.

Hell. Looking around this place, I got the feeling that a brother wasn’t the only thing he didn’t need. But then again, knowing how Cole kept his room, it was maybe a good thing that he had so few belongings here. This place…it didn’t even feel like someone actually live here; there were so few things breaking the white of the walls, it was almost glaring to my eyes.

I first went to check his bed, to see if he still has that weird habit—falling asleep with cigarettes still in his hand. His bedsheet looked clean enough; nothing charred. No ashtray, either. Maybe he quit.

Satisfied, I went to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and dived into the pressurized water in his shower.

I can’t remember when was the last time I had running water. Probably…when I was in the League’s safe house? Gosh. My skin is so filthy, the water only started running clean after a good ten minutes of scrubbing, and I was scrubbing hard.

I was extra careful when I cleaned my arms, though. Not particularly because I was scared of pain, but more that I didn’t want to hurt this…person who might share this unfortunate connection with me, however low the chance might be. I didn’t want to make her suffer even more—somehow, I knew it was a her, for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words.

When I got out of the shower, I felt like my entire body had been turned inside out. My skin was glowing pink against the white tiling of Cole’s bathroom. He is an inch or two taller than me—which was sore to admit, but hey, I went through puberty in a lot worse condition than he did—so his pants hung a little too long around my ankles.

Then I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked awful. The dark shadows under my eyes were so purple, they looked almost black. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises. There was a new one on my left cheek, just above the jawline. Whether it was mine or hers, I didn’t know.

Just as I threw the towel over my head, and started rubbing the water away from my hair, I heard it—siren. It began from a distance, a low wailing, but it was enough to set every hair on my back on its end. As I flew out of Cole’s shower, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the window side, the siren got closer—and multiplied. The sound of them were like a harmony from hell.

Should I run? Should I stay?

I should run.

Even though they might not be coming for me, I knew better than to push my luck—it hadn’t really been on my side recently, and that woman who looked at me a second too long when I got in the building was probably proving me right. I threw the apartment door open, and on a second thought, ran for the roof instead of the ground floor.

I can reconvene with Cole later. I need to stay out of sight now. Cole’s a smart guy, he knows what to do in a situation like this.

It had started raining. I tripped on a mossy patch on the rooftop, and almost broke my jaw, but I stood up and kept running. I pushed myself over the ledge of the next building, and sprinted for the fire escape on the far end. The sound of the first bullet fired almost made me lose my bearing when I lowered myself onto the metal shaft.

They are on the other side. There were two fully populated buildings between me and those bullets, and they were firing at someone else—which means I’m not who they’re after. These are all good news.

Right?

Since when had I been that lucky after I turned twelve?

I pulled the hood of the jacket over my head, and dove into the shadow of the next alley. The gunfire had stopped, which meant that they probably got whoever they were after. I took the long way around the block, trying to get a hang of the situation, getting an idea of where I could find Cole without being spotted—

Oh, I found him alright.

Fuck. No. Fuck.

I only caught sight of him for a second before they slammed the back of that van shut, and in that brief second, he looked up, and he saw me.

No.

Christ. No. I… I got him caught. I did… I did this… Why didn’t I warn him? Why didn’t I go to him as soon as I heard the siren?

What have I done?

If you’re caught, you’re disavowed. I still remembered that phrase like it was etched into my skull. If anything encapsulates what I hate about the League the most, this is it. And now, Cole is going to be another casualty under that cold hard rule. The thought almost made my knees buckled, but instead of crashing down, I up and ran.

I ran. From this nightmare of my own making.

+++

Ruby

“Ruby!”

The scream came before the punch could land. I didn’t register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.

“Go to the infirmary!” Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What’s wrong with her? Where did those come from?

I knew exactly where they came from.

If Chubs was here, he’d likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply…couldn’t. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.

With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.

My arms didn’t hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn’t get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts…he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.

The only consolation I had was that I wasn’t mortally wounded, which meant he wasn’t, either. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.

If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.

“Ruby?” Cate’s voice.

I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” She asked, standing outside of my stall.

“Yes.” I lied.

“Coach Johnson said you were hurt—” She didn’t buy it. “Look, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—”

“I’m fine.” I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.

“Ruby, I can see the blood.” Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. “Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds.”

Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.

If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn’t here at all.

I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the sight of me. “Oh, Ruby…” She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.

“Press on it.” She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.

I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. “This is going to hurt a little…” She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn’t comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.

“There.” When she’s done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.

“Th…thank you.” I managed to choke out.

She gave me a tender smile. “Don’t mention it.” She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.

Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, “You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too.” She paused for a second, “You’re…not entirely helpless in this situation.”

Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn’t even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn’t seem so bad.

I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn’t even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.

But then again, she probably didn’t understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.

That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn’t miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.

I just want to be myself again, even if it’s just for a moment.

So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.

+++

His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.

His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.

“It was you.” Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half…anger?

“What was?” I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.

He threw me a “really?” look. “Don’t insult my intelligence.” He snapped, “These are Liam’s, aren’t they?”

I almost asked “how do you know”, but that would confirm his suspicion. “What makes you say that?” I asked instead.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing games with you.” He huffed, “Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn’t even know you exist!”

“And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain.” I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.

He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I’m telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this.”

“What do you know?” I retorted, finally couldn’t keep the lid on my anger anymore. “Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?”

Cole really laughed. “You think I don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. “I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time.” He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. “And I’ve seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don’t double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?”

My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.

“Go find him.” Cole snapped. “And for Christ’s sake, stay together this time.”

+++

Liam

“I didn’t need freedom; I needed you!” I half-screamed, trying to get the frustration out past the chaos raging in my head. How could I—? How could she—? What the hell—?

On the receiving end of my scream, Ruby’s face was painted with grief, lined with tears that almost made my anger buckle. Almost.

“Did you just…not want to be with me anymore?” Facing her silence, my pain came out softer eventually. Please, just tell me, and I will leave you alone.

“No…” She choked out. “I… I was wrong.” She swallowed hard before continuing, and despite the anger still roaming my vein, I wanted to reach out and touch her. “We should…we should stay together. I knew I couldn’t bear to see you with the League, see them take away all the good in you that I love…”

“Is that how you think of me?” I snapped before I realized what I was doing, “That I am so weak that the League is bound to break me?”

“No!” She shook her head violently, “No, I don’t think you are weak… If anything, I think you are much stronger than me. But I was weak.” She finally looked back at me, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light of this dust-covered room. “I’m so sorry.”

Before I could react to what she said—I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do—the sound of a gunshot broke every single thought clean out of my head.

Ruby was running before I could do anything about it. She pushed the door of the shop open, and another shot blew open the window on the outside, shattering the glass all over the floor.

“Ruby!” I shouted as I dodged, crouching with my hands over my ears, but she was already up and running again, out of the door and behind the woman that was escaping the scene—with a gun in her hands.

“Ruby, stop!” I shouted again, got on my feet to catch her, but I never manage. I skidded on the broken glass, and fell, hands first, into the shards.

I heard her hiss. She stopped dead on her way, and whirled around to find me on the floor, holding my right hand on my laps, pressing it against the fabric of my jeans to try and stop the bleeding.

The blood was dripping down to her fingers. As she walked slowly towards me, the red, looking almost black, dropped on the dust-covered floor, leaving a spotting route, marking her path. When she knelt down beside me, finally close enough to touch me, I found that she was smiling. A totally mirthless, wry and painful smile.

“Give me your hand.” She said softly, almost like a whisper.

“You should treat yours first.” I said, trying to catch her hand, to see how much of a damage I’d done.

“We only need to treat one of us.” She let out a small breath, almost like something caught there. “We get them together, and we heal them together, too.”

That, somehow, broke through all the mess in my head and reached my mind. I let her take my arm, and carefully wrap her scarf on my hand, all the while her words played on repeat in my head.

We get them together, and we heal them together, too.

When she was done wrapping my hand up, the wounds on her hand stopped bleeding, too. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t even completely over that anger or frustration—but when she placed her hand in mine, a tender “there” escaping her lips, all I wanted to do was kiss her.

Instead, I gently enveloped my fingers around her hand. “There.” I said, pressing my good hand over hers.

And we stayed in that silent, that touch, just a little while longer.

+++

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there. 

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super. 

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door. 

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down. 

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t  d i d  i  f u c k i n g  t e l l  y o u ,  d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection. 

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father. 

okay that was funny. 

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm. 

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends? 

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead. 

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping. 

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that. 

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them. 

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there. 

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

~~

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan  @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption​ @capricorn-stark​ @batshit-birds​ @comics-observer @buticaaba​ 

[constellaj]

How about A for Reality Trip for the episode rewrite thing?

my biggest issue with reality trip is that its just a series of travelling around to non connected locations to get the mcguffins, and while danny’s secret being public matters somewhat, it doesn’t really impact the fact that they’re on the move too much. I also don’t like the ‘maddie and jack accept him perfectly and then he wipes everyones minds anyway’ cause that doesnt do anything. i DO like the “our summer vacation plans got ruined thanks to a ghost” angle so i want the themes of the episode to focus on danny’s frustration that nothing ever goes right and how he doesn’t even know what he wants

so i think in my rewrite:

-danny’s secret is out almost immediately, and it’s because the GIW shot him w a destabilizer and he publicly morphed (he got away thanks to shenanigans similar to the onstage debacle in canon) how this is thematic: he thought he didn’t want the secret out at all but, weirdly, a lot of the popular kids are fine with it. he’s still afraid of what his parents will think but he’s also frustrated that he had unfounded fears

-however, when danny (terrified) goes to his parents: theyre gone. freakshow has taken jack/maddie/jazz/etc and frozen them in some magic bubble bullshit or mind control or whatever so they don’t actually know. freakshow is sending danny on a fetch quest for the gems thematic relevance: he just hyped himself up for this conversation and they got yanked away

using these two, i think we can keep a similar opening/setup for the ep, ie freakshow in GIW containment until he breaks out, for setup-payoff

regrettably this still keeps the fetchquest aspect that i think makes reality trip broken in the first place, but since the first freakshow ep was about danny being evil I think it could be neat if we had some of that carried over into this. the ‘reality stones’ (since we live in a post mcu world now, we regrettably would have to change some of this, but i digress) respond highly to ecto activity or whatever, basically meaning that with every new one they get danny becomes a little more powerful. since everything is going wrong for him (see: the theme) and he doesn’t know what he wants, he starts to get a liiitttle power-hungry. A little messed up in the head.

ideally then there should be a way to work Vlad into this plot too. i’m a sucker for dadvlad tbh so let’s say that... when the Fentons first get kidnapped danny begrudgingly goes to vlad like “my mom and dad are kidnapped” and vlad may be a dick but he doesnt want his college crushes (or crush singular if i’m forced to be canon compliant) locked up so he’s helping. at first hes like “oh my boy daniel let Me hold the Magic Rocks surely you trust me haha >:)” and then later hes like “....son these rocks are turning your brain into goo.” course nobody believes him cause its all a ploy all the time forever and always

since danny’s secret is out too that means theyre actively on the run and vlad can’t always be There because he’s relatively high profile in either form, just for different reasons, so we can make him more of a “i did research offscreen and i think this gem is in x location but I can’t go there because i’m a bitch” type character

i DO like the intelligent aladdin-like ploy of ghost envy in the original but ‘ghost envy’ as a theme has to be reworked at least slightly for this, so also with danny being evil let’s say he’s feeling the scales tip especially after his reveal to the point where he’s feeling like he’d be better off if he was living his life entirely as a ghost. 

of course when they get the things to freakshow danny has the gauntlet and hes all like “im evil now and i will kill you” and sam/tucker/maybe vlad are like “but danny. you have friends.” and we get a montage/list of allusions of those times that they actually helped him on this fetch quest, like idk sam at a rock concert using loud horrible teenage music to chase the GIW out etc. they got souvenirs from everywhere they went. so danny sees this and hes like “oh noooo my humanity” and drops and in that split second freakshow grabs the gauntlet

and dannys like “oh great even NOW nothing EVER goes right for me” but because i put vlad here and because i like parallels vlad is like “so what are you gonna wimp out” or whatever he says. they probably had a somewhat heartfelt speech earlier about “why are you helping” “I care about jack and maddie being alive” “bro they hate you” “not everything has to go right for me to give a shit, daniel” or w/e

so before danny can overreact with his rage he remembers to work with what he has and pulls the fast-thinking “oh i bet you wish you were a ghost huh” trick that allows him to put freakshow in the thermos. then danny goes to get the glove and hes like “wait... no... that turns my brain into goo” and vlad is like “how about i get it :)” and danny is like “no youre evil” and vlads like “damn u caught me”

so sam and tucker actually use the gauntlet bc theyre not ghosts so their brain wont get fucky wucky. obvs they make the decision to wipe peoples memories of dannys identity but theyre also like “danny... don’t you at least want to see how your parents would react before we do this” and danny just sorta. shakes his head and repeats some “not everything has to go right for me to give a shit” line from vlad or something and of course its cause hes still insecure but also he’s okay with not having PERFECT control over everything now which is what he struggled with all episode so. character growth!

i feel like me saying “vlad should be here :)” is a staple that might lead to his character losing some of that original allure but like... honestly. vlad should be here :)

before the memory wipe dash makes out with him but that was a given

[wannimoon]

saw a post that bothered me earlier and i cant stop thinking about it so dont mind me while i rant really quick. scroll if u want idc.

does it really fucking matter if bi lesbians exist or not? does it really fucking matter if some trans men identify as lesbians? does it really matter if pansexuality and bisexuality are so similar? does it really matter at all that some people use microlabels, or labels that you dont understand, to define themselves?

its not about everyone being valid no matter what. its about the fact that our oppressors do not fucking care about what labels we use. homophobes are not going to check what our pronouns are and if our labels are “the right ones” we use before they fucking hate crime us.

i genuinely do not care if bi lesbians are “valid” or not. i genuinely do not care if its “possible” for trans men to be lesbians. all i care about is that they’re queer, and so they belong in this community with me and, and so i will respect whatever identity they tell me they are and i will help protect them from those that are trying to hurt us.

the post i saw said something along the lines of “capitalist society encourages individuality to the point of us wanting to distance ourselves from others as much as we can” okay, if that’s how you see it, sure. if you want to avoid microlabels for that reason, that is a completely fair and reasonable stance to take! sincerely! but thats not a decision you get to make for anyone else. and how do you know the people using those labels arent doing so SPECIFICALLY because theyve felt excluded and shunned by people like you, forcing them to try and find community somewhere else, with people who understand them?

if you’re even a little bit concerned with the people around you using the “correct” labels you are actively fighting against queer liberation. the whole POINT of liberation is that we dont try to force ourselves to confine to what “makes sense” to other people. you could argue that microlabels are just a way to make smaller and smaller boxes to force yourself in, and in some cases i’d be inclined to agree with you. but again, thats not a decision you get to make for other people and YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY RIGHT WHATSOEVER to define for someone else how THEY experience gender and sexuality and how THEY choose to express it.

fuck off with your gatekeeping bullshit. there will NEVER be ANY KIND of queer exclusion that could ever be “woke” or morally correct. infighting in the queer community will always be a win for the oppressor. so shut the fuck up, mind your business, and stop trying to define other people’s identities.

[aesopsbaby]

Heya! I wanted to ask for a match up of cookie run or idv, if u can!

I'm an INFP and usually a pretty socially anxious person too who tends to keep to themselves, but can also be pretty extrovert sometimes and my friends usually say I'm sweet and positive, even if it's quite the contrary actually! I love helping others and I'm pretty patient unless it has to do with harming animals, in which case I get pretty aggressive. Usually I'm also quick to forgive, but never forget and have a little trust issues which results on me ghosting people accidentally, also have the tendency of taking care of everyone around me and feeling guilty for saying no. I also like baking a lot and reading, along with painting and singing! I'm really into mythology, especially greek and norse, and I'm trying to learn more about energies and supernatural entities. One of my other main interests are psychologist, flying and languages! I love traveling a lot and trying to decipher human emotions and what motivates them, along with how to understand other perspectives! Even though I'm pretty stubborn when it comes to ideologies and kinda rule my life by what I consider "morally good".

I'm not really sure if what I put was ok or if it works, so sorry if I did something wrong! and hope u have a good day! Take care! :D

I match you up with...

Identity V:

Eli Clark | The Seer

This man adores you with all his soul-

I'm not even kidding,he gets so soft and just has this huge smile plastered on his face whenever he sees you.

He's always gushing about you,bringing you up in any conversations like "Y/n is just adorable aren't they?"

He literally melts. Im not kidding. Eli literally MELTS everytime he sees you because you're like a small ball on sunshine.

Not related to anything but,,,receiving head pats from Eli....<3

He loves how you're so adamant on your ideals,he really admires you for that.

He falls heads over heels for how you're so kind/loving/caring and patient for others. Never backing down and never neglecting someone's problems.

He gets so distressed and upset whenever he sees you carrying everyone's responsibilities :((

He understands that you're not able to refuse someone's help because you'll feel that you're not good enough or that you're a bad person for neglecting someone's struggles.

Whenever he sees you taking up yet another responsibility from someone,he almost breaks apart because he hates seeing you so stressed out and rushing around to accommodate to everyone.

He wants you to have your own time,to relax,take care of yourself an look out for yourself.

He knows he can't just waltz on into your life and try to control what you do,try to force you to stop accepting people's struggles. He knows that doing so will only make you even more stress and paints him in a bad light- he'll never do something so mean.

But he still wants you to at least think about how much of a toll this is taking on your health. Physically and mentally.

Will always try to help you with whatever you're doing to lesson your responsibilities.

"Honey,you know you don't have to drain yourself like this."

"Remember. It's okay to say no sometimes,alright? Your health is much more important than anything else,understood?" He'll huff playfully,pinching your nose.

He'll always be beside you whenever you need. He'll listen to all your troubles that you've probably never gotten to talk about since you're always helping others and listening to others.

He loves to read with you <3 Loves it when you're relaxing and he gets to be with you to enjoy the moment together!

Supports you throughout everything. No matter what decisions you make,he'll always be there to cheer you on and help you. ♡♡

Melts whenever he sees you playing with his owl <3 You're just so soft and gentle with the animal that it just creates this fuzzy and warm feeling to well up inside him.

He'll always be hugging you,always having his hands wrapped around your body as he presses feather like kisses on your neck and shoulder just to hear you laugh <3

Kisses your nose and cheeks as he holds your hands in his. ♡

He understands whenever you question him or subtle hint that you're worried he'll leave or something along those lines.

He will never get mad nor pissed,instead he'll feel a little bit down. How much have you gone through that you're questioning someone's loyalty? He always gets so emotional because of what you could have possibly went through.

What could someone have done to make you have trust issues,he wonders. It truly pains him to see you with small trust issues so he'll never ever get mad at you.

"Dear,I'll never leave you. I promise."

"Here,a kiss for my loyalty." [A kiss to your nose] "another one for my love for you," [A kiss to your forehead] "and one more,a promise that I'll love you forever,love." [A soft kiss to your lips]

He always compliments you! It's a daily routine and he will never grow out of it!

Sometimes when he's in a particularly good mood,he'll rush over to you,practically beaming with love and affection as he tackles you into a hug <3 Picking you up gently and spinning you around as he peppers your face with kisses ♡♡

"I'm so in love with you,dear,so very in love."

Thank you for your support! <3

[cipheramnesia]

Hi there! Just saw your last ask bc u tagged RF. I'm not here to argue I just noticed that you claimed that most of us are recruited like neonazis and I can tell you for certain what turned me to radical feminism was trans activists calling me TERF for being a lesbian. I am 20. I supported Trans Rights since I heard of them. I was genuinely heartbroken when the NC bathroom bill happened a few years back. But apparently not being attracted to males or believing in sex makes me a terf. U do u ig.

This is probably a good example of what I was talking about, because buried somewhere in this person’s past is a point where some nuanced communication went awry. 

Either someone was impatient, anger got in the way, something wasn’t clear - it doesn’t really matter. Whatever happened, they walked away feeling like they’d been treated poorly by someone else who was trying to explain the nuances of sex and gender. That’s more or less the best place to be recruited in exclusionist circles, who will reinforce the hurt and negative feelings. “I was called a TERF for being a lesbian” is such a wildly common TERF talking point and if anyone has the energy to unpack it here feel free, but the end of is that it’s pretty thoroughly debunked.

Anyway, back on to the recruitment tactics, neonazis do this same sort of thing, finding kids who experienced rejection, and provide positive feedback which reinforces the bigoted or otherwise exclusionist parts of being hurt. I have to wonder where they’re at now, if someone’s just telling them very mild things like “just because you don’t like penises you’re not a TERF,” but I think if they’re already saying “Trans Activists” they might be a little further down the line into “Trans people are recruiting everyone into being trans” or whatever that is. Maybe they’ve even got to the place where, like so many white supremacists in the past, they bravely offer to help these poor people who just need their own separate space, to couch bias in terms of protection of trans people... 

I don’t know. I’m just throwing this out there because you, dear anon, in every word of your ask, describe exactly the recruitment of which I was speaking. You perhaps do not realize that neonazis use identical tactics, and may have assumed I meant something more... villainous or obvious.

But it’s not. Just a little bit by bit edging you away from a kind world, closer to a world that’s small and cruel. I hope maybe this reaches you, gets through to you, helps you escape from all that before too many years of your life are wasted on people who want you to hate and fear anyone different. Please be safe and seek out someone inclusive and kind who cares about you more than they hate differences.

anyone needs cw tags added let me know, not sure what to include.

[mar1garden]

going batty part 1

masterlist

warning: this will be salty. very salty. if you think it’s ooc let me know and i’ll do the best i can to fix it, but the characterization in this show is so shoddy already that there isn’t much i can do. alya salt, adrien salt, lila salt, bustier salt, class salt. this is also my first posted fic!! if u wanna be on the tag list let me know 💙🌹

The first impression Damien had of his new class was that they were loud. Even as he walked up the stairs, he could hear voices in the classroom. It seemed a debate was occurring, though he couldn’t quite make out the two sides. He reached the top of the stairs, but before he could even make a grab for the door handle, the room fell silent. Damien was about to thank whatever deity was watching out for him and silencing the roomful of screaming children he was about to walk into when he heard another voice from inside the room.

“Of course she’s in love with him,” an effeminate voice said matter-of-factly. “But he barely knows she exists. It’s tragic, really. She tells me about it every time she sleeps over- oops!” the voice continued. Damien didn’t know who was speaking, and he didn’t know who they were speaking about, but he knew from their cadence and their confidence in “accidentally” spilling secrets that he couldn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. Damien sighed deeply to think that he was joining a class of liars and idiots as he reluctantly opened the door to the classroom. Once more the class quieted- chaos had broken out once more after the liar mentioned her little tidbit, which he expected had been the goal.

“Ah! Our new student! M. Damocles told me to keep an eye out for you. Would you like to say a few words to the class?” a woman- presumably the teacher, though she did nothing to show it- asked. She smiled expectantly at him as he moved to stand in front of her desk, facing the class.

“I’m Damien. I’m 15 and I’m an exchange student from America. I do not wish to distract myself from my studies during my time here, so please do not try to make friends with me. I’m not interested,” Damien told the class sharply. He walked briskly to the only open seat in the room- back row, next to some girl who smiled gently at him before returning her gaze to the front of the class. Interesting, he mused. By her bright clothes, he had expected bubbliness. Perhaps a high-pitched greeting. A hug, maybe. This was a pleasant surprise, though it was the only one of its kind he had had all week.

On Monday, they had received video evidence of a super villain in Paris. Tim had suspected it was CGI, especially since Paris was visually completely fine when he hacked some security feeds, even though the video clearly showed the Eiffel Tower falling. Bruce had decided that they really ought to at least check before writing it off, and Damien had drawn the short straw.

On Tuesday, Bruce had told him his cover for being in Paris was that he was an exchange student. He wasn’t allowed to be Robin while he was there, as it may put his identity at risk. He wasn’t allowed to leave until he had confirmation that the thing was either a hoax or genuine, unless he was in actual danger.

On Wednesday he packed. He couldn’t take weapons with him, obviously, because airport security may be a joke but he was pretty sure they would catch an actual sword stuffed in his bag. That afternoon he had flown to Paris and gotten settled in.

And now it was Thursday. Damien had learned much about the class very quickly, mainly that it was composed of a liar and some idiots. He had learned his deskmate was quiet. He had learned that he was far enough ahead in the syllabus that he could afford to study people in class.

He hoped the rest of the week was calm. Even if it meant he had to stay longer, he would rather have time to get settled before suffering a villain attack- if the whole thing was real, anyways. He pulled his focus back to the task at hand- assessing the class and finding any useful allies or sources of information. He recognized the girl next to the liar as the Ladyblogger. This meant the Ladyblog was likely an unreliable resource, which he mentally jotted down. That was good to know.

Damien cast a sideways glance at the girl next to him. She was patiently listening to the teacher and obviously tuning out the other students. When Damien bothered to listen, he noticed them gossiping about her. So Marinette was her name, huh?

Every rumor he heard was traced instantly back to the liar, and with each word he noticed the girl next to him tense imperceptibly more. He mentally scoffed. It was clear that she wasn’t going to stand up for herself. How pathetic. She was preferable to the liar or any of the blind idiots, but certainly not by much. So lost in thought was he that he flinched when the bell rang. Where had his restraint gone?

Marinette turned to him once the bell had rung. In a voice clearly pitched down so others wouldn’t hear, she spoke for the first time that day: “You’re Damien, right? I’m Marinette, the class president.” He scoffed slightly. The whole class clearly hated her, and she refused to stand up for herself. How had this mess become class president? As if she hadn’t heard him, she continued: “If you need anything, let me know. Here’s your class schedule and syllabi, and here’s a map of school. If you’d like, I can give you a tour later and explain the multiple purposes of some of the classrooms.” She handed him a short pile of papers and waited, as if she expected a response. When she got none, she nodded and left, and somehow, that made Damien feel worse than he would have if she had scolded him on his lack of a ‘thank you.’

The rest of the day, he remained in the same classes as her. He sat next to her in a majority of them, as she was often the only person with no seat partner. She remained quiet and focused, and she continued to pointedly ignore the other students, though it seemed he was not among their ranks. When he asked any questions, she answered quickly, quietly, and to the best of her ability, which he appreciated. She may be useful yet, if her succinct answers to non-hero questions were any indication of her general temperament. As he thought this, the bell rang for lunch and the class began to pack up. Damien wasn’t sure if he should risk the caf or head off campus, but as he turned to ask Marinette, he noticed that she had frozen in place. Her bag was half packed and resting on the table as she looked in surprise at someone standing at the table.

The boy was blonde and green eyed. He had had the liar hanging off of him, which either meant they were working together or he was a bigger idiot than them all. He smiled condescendingly at Marinette and Damien, then he turned solely to Marinette. “Marinette, may I speak with you real quick? It’ll only take a minute,” the boy asked, though it was clear ‘no’ was not an option. At the girl’s small nod, he turned to Damien. “Do you mind if I steal her for a sec?” he asked. Damien raised an eyebrow.

“Seeing as she’s a human being and therefore not property, I don’t see how you could steal her, but be my guest.” The boy smiled that same smarmy smile at him, and Damien decided that too many unlikeable people disliked the sweet girl next to him. He didn’t want to be among their ranks, and while the girl could do with a bit more spine, she had been nothing but pleasant to him. As the boy maneuvered her away to speak, Damien moved a bit more quietly. It would be easy for his trained ears to overhear, and they should both underestimate him, so it would be simple to eavesdrop.

“Mari, you didn’t say anything to him, did you?” the blond asked, looking searchingly at the girl in question. She sighed in response.

“Is that what this is about? I promise, I didn’t tell him anything. I think he knows she’s lying, and if he asks, I won’t lie to him to protect her, but I haven’t told him anything and he hasn’t asked.” Marinette rolled her eyes at the boy. Damien couldn’t help but notice that her posture, while visibly scared when other students were around, was simply bored when only Blondie was there. The boy had sighed in relief at Marinette’s words, but had quickly tensed back up.

“Wait, if he asks if she’s lying, you’ll just... tell him? Just like that? Mari, you can’t do that! He doesn’t know us, he doesn’t need to know our secrets!” the blond protested. He assumed a superior expression and quickly looked at Marinette in as disappointed a way as he could manage. The aforementioned girl glared at him.

“Agreste, I’m not going to lie. I refuse to do so, especially to try and protect a girl who hates me. Damien is perfectly kind and has been nothing but cordial, I have no reason to deny him information that may affect his time here. I won’t make him listen to some liar thinking it’s the truth.” Marinette ended the conversation there, walking back to the desk quickly and packing her bag before leaving class. Damien took this in with an air of quiet amusedness, though he was touched that she defended him.

Maybe his time here wouldn’t be so impossible after all.

that’s where i’m ending the first part! if you’d like to be tagged in the next part let me know! have a wonderful weekend folks! ~💙🌹

[phoebehalliwell]

so you know how the 100th episode is supposedly about paige but like really it's about cole and wanting to be with phoebe again instead of like being about the charmed ones... well i just realized the 150th ep is mainly about leo and like secondarily about piper and pleo... so like you think if there had been a 200th ep it would have been about henry + paige/henry... like this show be like we gonna focus on the love interests instead of the main characters for the big milestone eps

100th episode my detested,,,,,, plugging my au for the 10,000th time. but now that u point it out, like. yeah. they really both were p relationship focused whether that was establishing that they are meant to be no matter what (leo finding his way back to piper w his mind wiped) or a really weird excuse to drop a plot you've been running for two and a half season (what happened to us, we used the be so in love / maybe it's just not meant to be like girl what. girl we have been here for literal years and the best reason you can come up with to finalize getting rid of cole's character was idk maybe it just wasn't meant to be r u joking. i don't even like phole but like goddamn was that stupid. i'm sorry this is such a tangent but why does phoebe smoke now? and her and cole Both have affairs like clearly phoebe's off the deep end so i don't even really know what's going on there but cole Also having affairs like. like you're telling me this only started to break off from canon in s4 when they were Obsessed with each other in s4 they got married in s4 to someone they hate each other and are in a loveless marriage and sleep with other people because they're empty inside? really? That's The Best You Could Come Up With. piper going awol murder machine shure i'll allow the leather's a little much but it's what 2003 so whatever. but phoebe doing. whatever the hell she was doing in centennial charmed. it literally make no sense. i'm still talking about this after her family was ripped apart after seeming stable for the first time in so so long you're telling me she would abandon piper for cole and then not even like like cole? like this woman would be desperate for a family for love for support for something to call her own and hold onto and know it'll be safe know it won't leave her if anything we should have seen freaky codependent phole not this neutered lackluster indifferent mess. 😡😡😡)

anyway. relationships! tbh tho. would have Loved a good paige/henry backstory ep. bc like. we just vaguely teased henry's backstory and it's literally so fucking interesting like the implications he was abandoned at birth or maybe he was orphaned either was he grew up in the system that failed him over and over again and has like trouble getting close to people because of it and then somehow ended up as a parole officer like trying to help kids who are probably in identical situations to the one he was in like. there's So Much To Do There. but specifically, if i am doing Thee Paige/Henry Centric ep. it is a blast 2 the past in which the couple both have to confront their anxieties around parenting, ending w the reveal that paige is pregnant w twins. or starting w the reveal idc. but i am. really fascinated i've talked about paige and motherhood before but i think like. for anyone who like. has/had good parents but still you know. were either like an evil little shit or just you know fucked up and miserable so on and so forth people who have made their mother cry in the kitchen like. there's something really fascinating there because like. how do you now as a mom try to protect your own child from the pain u went through. because goddamn it seemed like your mom did everything right and yet you were still awful. so how like. how are you supposed. god if you're as good as her which seems like a reach your kid still might be like you and and what if you're not as good as her. what if everything you try to do only backfires and blows up in your face more you know blah blah blah that good old fashioned anxiety. piper and phoebe don't have this because they didn't like. have a mom. but paige did and she had a really good one who never actually got to see her get better and those scars run deep!! aaaaaaaaaa!!!! i really like mom!paige it's something i really like to think about because i think like while she's great with kids she's great with babies she's great with toddlers she's great at connecting with students with charges with parolees i think she really struggles being a mother to her own children for all the aforementioned reasons. so it could be fun to break that down While we also a) get henry's tragic backstory bc we always need more of that and b) henry's own views of parenting and also just more of their relationship headcanon rite now henry gets really into astrology so he can help paige with spells and the like because he hates feeling like he's powerless and can't help his wife so he finds all the ways a mortal can help <3. but yeah i think henry secretly like doesn't even fully realize it has a whole lot of anger stored up in his heart bc i do think he was abandoned at birth and you know paige kinda got closure on that you know she literally got to meet both parties and you know they gave her away to literally protect her from unspeakable wrath vis a vis the elders so there's that but for henry it's like. like he was their son. and they just. they left him. they didn't even leave any way for him to find them again because like. they just didn't fucking care, i guess??? like. what. what could be the reason what could drive them to do that and you know paige whose parents Had Reason are like i'm sure your parents had reason but imo. they didn't. and i think that's a wound henry really pretends like he doesn't have. so we're def tearing that open in ep 200. that and then just like. how much henry wants a family <3 how much he wants to take em to six flags and make french toast on sunday morning and fly kites in the park like he wants to give his kids the childhood he wished so so bad he could have had. bonus round after traveling back through time to pick at scabs til they bleed, we end with a quick flash forward into the future where everything works out <3